#I got a little further than I did most seasons though. got a couple mythic tier set appearances & one singular mythic track piece lol

[srichardart]

Fourth sketch. First. Previous. Next.

Weeks had passed and Imri’s carefully crafted reputation had begun to crumble. The older folks were the first to see through his charm, when they realized he had no intention of doing anything more than managing the finances of the farm. Maybe he had lead them to believe otherwise when he asked for advice, but Imri for his own part couldn’t see why that bothered them so much. It wasn’t as if he was doing absolutely nothing, like Ava and Gawain, who spent every day gallivanting about the town and pestering people. He ensured they kept to a budget and earned enough from the crops to continue planting throughout the seasons, while having enough left over to support themselves. And they had a lot left over, thanks to the price increases and the mythical stories he weaved around the farm. Most of their income didn’t even come from the villagers themselves- who Imri ordinarily offered discounts to ensure they would tolerate him- but by exporting to neighboring towns and villages.

He suspected his success, despite the lack of hard labor, was what made the villagers annoyed with them. Every now and again he’d hear a couple of middle aged farmers muttering about ‘city boys’ when he walked past. It’d be a lie to say he didn’t enjoy the infamy to some degree, especially when the daughters of those same farmers still appreciated Imri as much as they had when he first arrived. Granted, nearly every young man in town now seemed to hate him. Now and again one of them would puff their chests out, as if they were ready to fight him over the attentions of a girl. Imri was a slight man and the only time he had held a sword was moments before he refused to ever learn how to fight. If one of them ever did hit him, he would be in trouble. He wasn’t stupid and he knew damned well any one of these country boys could lay him out flat if they wanted to. Thankfully, they in turn knew he could do much worse than merely punch back. Most times it never came to that. The girls in question usually stopped the fights themselves, as they smacked the youths and told them to knock it off. He could never resist shooting a smile back at the boys as he left with the girl.

The only locals he still had favor with were the girls. Some simply enjoyed having fun with him, while others thought they could make him settle down in spite of his every effort to tell them otherwise. Regardless of the girls’ intentions, he stole away with them into haylofts, fields and, on one daring occasion, snuck through a window into a bedroom. That time he had been caught. He’d barely started kissing Celine when her father come roaring into the room to chase him out. It might have scared a farm boy out in heartbeats, but Imri wasn’t the type to flee. He stood up, apologized for trespassing and tried to explain that Celine had invited him in. It was only when her father wouldn’t stop cursing him that Imri warned him what might happen if he continued to cross him.

He might have gone too far.

After that he heard fewer whispers and the farm boys didn’t dare confront him. So, Imri thought it wasn’t all bad, even if he felt bad for scaring the old man. Maybe he’d write him an apology. Send him a fruit basket, something.

Unfortunately, after all that, he managed to tear the sleeve of his favorite shirt. Probably while he was climbing in through Celine’s window. He paid a visit to the tailor that week, after figuring that such a small repair would take little time. The shop was small, featuring only a small range of clothes to buy. Likely the only time the villagers bought new clothes was for festivals and their idea of ‘nice clothes’ was ‘barely acceptable’ by his standards. Most of the shop’s revenue probably came from repairing work clothes throughout the year. It was when he realized one of the tailor’s apprentices was manning the shop that Imri wanted to groan.

Adalena was organizing the shop’s fabrics when the bell caught her attention. “One moment,” she started until she saw Imri. Her familiar scowl returned.

“Look, let’s just make this painless, alright?” Imri said, unable to stop himself from sighing. “I just want my shirt fixed.”

She put her hands on her hips as she turned fully to face him. “What, are you going to tell your father if I don’t?”

Alright, maybe he did deserve that one. He pressed his lips together and considered what to say to put her at ease. “…That wasn’t exactly what happened.”

“Oh? So… you didn’t break into Celine’s room and when her father was rightfully angry, you didn’t threaten to have your father’s guards haul him away if he didn’t show the respect that you, a prince, deserve?” She raised an eyebrow at him, looking at him expectantly. “Did I get that right, your highness, or would you care to show a shred of honesty? If it pleases you, of course.”

Imri cleared his throat and crossed his arms behind his back. Although he was aware that Adalena didn’t like him, he hadn’t seen her angry at him. “Okay, so that was what happened,” he admitted, grimacing as he shrugged a shoulder in guilt. “I went too far- I admit it. I mean, I wouldn’t actually have him hauled off, I… uh, I don’t think my father would even allow that if I’m being perfectly honest.”

She stood entirely still, scowling at him.

Imri looked away, feeling his ears get hot. “Though I know he doesn’t know that and I, uh, I plan to apologize to him. Today, in fact.” He wasn’t aware that was the truth until he said it to her scrutinizing face. Even if he considered not doing so, he knew Adalena wouldn’t be one to let him off the hook. He stepped toward the counter and gingerly placed the ripped shirt on the counter. “I just came to have this fixed first, that’s all.”

She rolled her eyes, fluttering her eyelids as if she couldn’t cope with his presence any longer. “Fine. Pick it up at noon. Payment will be due then.”

“I’ll pay you now and more if you fix it now.” He’d said it without thinking, but decided he wouldn’t take it back when one corner of her mouth twitched in irritation. He slipped a few gold coins from his sleeve and held them out to her, knowing that it would be uncommon for an apprentice to get this much money, especially for a simple repair job.

“Do you really think you can just throw money at people until they do what you want?” she asked.

“Do you really not want it?”

She snatched the gold, biting one of the coins to test its authenticity. Of course she knew he was good for the coin and he knew it was meant to insult him. He decided not to take it at face value as she brought out some thread from under the counter and got to work.

“So…” He leaned one arm on the counter as she threaded the needle.

“I’m working. Can’t talk,” she said, knotting off the thread and refusing to make eye contact with him.

“Bull, I’ve seen you chatting with your friends while you work before,” he said, getting a brief glare from her although she didn’t say otherwise. “I just have one question for you. Why do you hate me?”

“Oh, you mean besides the fact that you use your position to threaten my friends and their family?” Her tone was dry as she quickly analyzed the tear, then began to pin the sides of the fabric together.

“That would be a great reason if you didn’t already hate me long before this.”

Adalena look up at him, eyes furious and began to sew. Imri pursed his lips, biting back a sigh as he stood up straight again.

“I don’t mean to badger you,” he said, earning a snort of derision from her. He continued anyway. “I mean it. Whatever I might have done- and I’m sure I did something, I know I can step on a lot of toes, going about my usual business, but I truly didn’t mean to step on yours- I’d like to address it, fix it, whatever I might do. At the very least, I’d like to be able to give a sincere apology.”

Her sewing slowed to a stop and she looked up at him, eyebrows knitting together in what almost looked like confusion. “You sound awfully sincere already,” she said, her voice full of suspicion.

“Is it really so hard to believe I might be?” he asked. “I mean, to be frank, while I would like to give you an apology, you are making this rather difficult.”

She frowned, then rolled her eyes. “You are so likeable.”

“I am!” he objected, a little hurt. “If you actually got to know me, I might surprise you, you know. I’m not half as bad as you seem to think- you might even like me.”

“Debatable,” she said simply, returning to the shirt. At first he thought she was going to refuse to speak any further, as she made stitch after stitch without saying another word. He was ready to give up on her, there was no use in pressing her any further if she didn’t want to answer his question.

“You know,” she said, catching his attention. “I’m beginning to think that I was tricked.”

He tilted his head slightly at her. “Tricked? By who?”

She removed a few pins from the fabric as they became unnecessary, sticking them into a tiny cushion on the counter. “I was told by a certain someone that you had plans for me. I can’t say I’m certain you don’t, but I’m beginning to think they weren’t quite as sinister as first implied.” Her eyes flicked up to him. “I think you can guess who. I have noticed you two don’t get along.”

His nose crinkled up. “Ava.” The seamstress confirmed this and Imri crossed his arms, huffing out an irritated groan. “So, what was it then? What terrible plans did I have in store for you?”

“Oh, about the same as you seem to have with every girl in town,” she said, her voice high and mocking. “I thought she was exaggerating at first, but then you went about seducing all of my friends one by one, so…”

He couldn’t help but shrug a shoulder, at the risk of looking uncaring. “It’s hardly seducing if everyone involved already wants to jump into bed.”

“They’re only sleeping with you because they’re hoping to leave here princesses.”

“Well…yes, some of them,” he admitted, grimacing uncomfortably. Not every girl in the village was like that- most of them weren’t, but the few who were could be exhausting at times. “It’s not as if I haven’t tried dissuading them from that. I let them know what I’m about.”

She paused long enough to give him a dry, unimpressed expression.

“I do!” he insisted. “I keep telling them I’m not here to get married, but they keep hoping that I’ll just magically change my mind.”

“Have you tried, I don’t know, not sleeping with them?”

They stared at each other, both at an impasse. Though, he had to admit, she looked less hateful now. More like she was thoroughly done with him. He supposed that was an improvement.

“You know what?” she said, shaking her head with a small smile. “I believe you, I don’t think you’ve seduced anyone.”

“See, if everyone would just listen-”

“You’re not charming enough to be capable of that.” She tied off the thread and cut off the excess. Folding the shirt, she placed it on the counter in front of him with a thin, pleased smile. “All done.”

He studied her for a second, an annoyed pout on his lips before he snatched up the shirt. “Thank you,” he forced himself to say and left the tailor’s shop.